


Guess Who?

by mithrel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blanket Permission, Books, Community: sabriel_bday, Fluff, Gift Giving, Holding Hands, M/M, Podfic Welcome, Pre-Slash, Schmoop, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Wooing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-21
Updated: 2011-11-21
Packaged: 2017-11-13 17:20:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/505896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithrel/pseuds/mithrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Gabriel decides to woo Sam using his love for books & knowledge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guess Who?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to krystalicekitsu for the beta.

Sam doesn’t really notice the extra bookmarks appearing on his laptop, since Dean occasionally ( _very_ occasionally) uses it for research. The subscriptions to the online newspapers throw him for a second, but he figures Dean must have signed them both up. They get a lot of leads from newspapers, after all.

He doesn’t realize something’s off until he finds a huge leatherbound book on his bed. He doesn’t recognize the title, but flipping through it it seems like it’s in some Asian language, but not Japanese or Chinese.

“Hey, Dean? Did you borrow this from Bobby?”

Dean comes out of the bathroom and squints at the pages. “Why would I borrow something I can’t read? Besides, I don’t think Bobby has this one.”

“Huh.” But Sam tucks the book in his bag. Maybe they can find someone to translate it for them.

The next day there’s a sheaf of printer paper on his bedside table. It’s apparently a translation of what he’d figured out was Hanja, with page numbers, annotations, and bits of advice. It covers most of the common monsters in East Asia.

“OK, this is officially weird,” Dean says when Sam shows him.

“You think we need to worry about it?”

“You still got all your stuff?”

They check. Nothing’s been taken.

“We’d better start salting the windows, just in case.”

Sam wants to point out that it’s unlikely a monster would be _helping_ them hunt it, but he keeps his mouth shut.

***

The things appearing in their motel rooms change. They don’t just involve hunting anymore.

A first draft copy of The Lord of the Rings. An autographed copy (using _his name_ ) of The Silmarillion.

Sam stares at the books. Only Dean knows he’s a Tolkien fan, and there’s no _way_ the autograph can be legit, since Tolkien died a decade before he was born.

“What the hell?”

Dean shrugs. They’ve been salting the windows, but obviously that hasn’t kept whatever–or whoever–it is out.

***

It’s the Enochian dictionary that gives Sam an inkling who might be behind this. As far as all the linguists are concerned, Enochian is a constructed language. This is more complete than any of the online dictionaries he has bookmarked, so either someone made up a bunch more terms, or whoever sent this was an angel.

When Cas shows up Sam asks him if he’s behind it. Cas is as confused as he is, but he does verify the dictionary is accurate.

“Humans do not know this many Enochian words.”

“So an angel did it, but not you?” Dean asks, and Cas nods.

Sam furrows his brow. “Must be one we’ve encountered before. But most of the angels we met have been trying to kill us.”

Dean shrugs, and Cas looks blank.

“Well, at least we know how to keep them out,” Dean says. “But that’ll keep Cas out, too.”

“I can meet you outside,” Cas says.

“There’s another problem,” Sam points out. “How did whoever it is _find_ us? We’re supposed to be invisible to angels, remember? And if they know where we are, how come they haven’t attacked?”

Both Dean and Cas look blank.

***

The Enochian sigils they draw around the motel room seem to work. At least things stop appearing.

Sam tells himself he’s not disappointed.

But about a week later they start up again. Not in the motel room.

In the Impala.

They’re always on the passenger side, rather than the driver’s side, which, since Dean hardly ever lets Sam drive, he takes as a substitute for leaving them on his bedside table.

“What the hell!” Dean fumes when they discover a bundle of about fifty library cards on Sam’s usual seat. “No way is some douchebag angel messing with my car!”

“It doesn’t look like they did anything…” Sam starts, but Dean’s ignoring him, checking over every inch of the Impala for damage.

The next time, along with the gift (a copy of Maniac McGee, which Sam must have checked out of at least fifteen different libraries when he was in middle school), the Impala’s tank has been topped off, and the chrome polished. Dean throws another fit, but to Sam the point is clear; whoever it is has no intention of messing with his baby.

Which is bizarre, considering they’d have a heck of a lot more trouble getting away if the Impala was out of commission.

Sam drives himself crazy trying to figure out who’s behind this. It isn’t Cas. Uriel’s dead–not that he would be doing this anyway–same goes for Zachariah, Raphael and Michael. It _could_ be Lucifer, but Sam doesn’t see how giving him books is going to get him to say yes.

***

Sam finally convinces Dean to give up on the sigils, since they aren’t keeping things from appearing, they mean Cas has to meet them outside, and without them whoever is behind this will leave his car alone.

He thinks it’s the last point that does it.

Finally, after more than two months, a large paperback appears on his bedside table: Encyclopedia of Angels, by Richard Webster.

Sam picks it up, figuring there might be a clue in it.

As he’s flipping through it, he sees a page bookmarked with a gold feather.

It’s the first page for _G_. There are only two entries on it, one of them a cross-reference. He barely looks at it, his eyes going to the second entry.

Gabriel. None of them had thought of him. It’s not surprising, really, since they only found out he was an angel recently, and he was adamant about not picking sides.

But this wasn’t picking sides, not really… None of the stuff he’s left them would give either Lucifer or Michael an advantage. Hell, some of it didn’t even relate to hunting.

But the question remains: why give them stuff in the first place?

Sam realizes he’s twirling the feather between his fingers and puts it down, feeling inexplicably guilty.

***

The thing is, he’s kept all the gifts. They’re useful. More than that, they’re _thoughtful._ Sam’s not sure even Dean would have remembered his fascination with  Maniac McGee.

He’s teetering on the edge of flattered and creeped out, since _Gabriel_ and _thoughtful_ are not two words he ever thought would go together, and he must have an ulterior motive.

He can rationalize keeping the things that help out with hunting, since it’d be stupid to throw away a risk-free advantage because you don’t trust the source. But the novels, even the library cards…those he doesn’t need to keep. And, yeah, they’re rare, but he really should throw them out.

He doesn’t.

***

Dean’s out getting food a few days later when there’s a knock at the door.

Sam pulls out his gun and points it at the floor when he answers, since Dean would just open the door and Cas would call.

It’s not Dean, or Cas.

It’s Gabriel.

He stares at him, then blurts out stupidly, “You _knocked!_ ”

Gabriel rolls his eyes at him. “I was trying to be polite. Next time I’ll just pop in unannounced.”

“Knocking’s fine,” Sam said hastily, and Gabriel smirks.

“What are you doing here?” Sam asks, moving back from the door and letting Gabriel in.

“I came to see if you liked my gifts,” Gabriel says lightly, but his face is serious and Sam hasn’t missed the fact that his eyes went to the feather he’d used as a bookmark, still on his bedside table.

“I…yeah…I mean sure, but… _why?_ ”

“Why not?” Gabriel shoots back.

“The last time we saw you you said you weren’t picking sides.”

“And I’m still not. There’s nothing there that will give you an advantage against Michael _or_ Lucifer.”

Completely true but… “Why me? I mean, why bother?”

“We’re a lot alike, Sam.” As Sam sputters, both at the abrupt change in subject and the comparison, he continues. “I know, you’re supposed to be Lucifer’s vessel, but he didn’t _run away_ from his family.”

“I came _back!_ ” Sam snaps angrily.

“Yeah, and how many times did you try to leave again before you figured out there was no escape?”

“I’m _nothing_ like you!”

Gabriel shrugs easily, as if he couldn’t be bothered to argue anymore.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Gabriel gives him a look of good-natured exasperation. “You need all the help you can get.”

Sam throws up his hands. “All _right,_ assuming you want to help us for some inexplicable reason, why not give the info to both of us? And why the other stuff?”

Gabriel’s eyes go suddenly soft. “You need more than hunting in your life, Sam.”

He can’t be saying what Sam thinks he’s saying…but a moment later a touch to his cheek confirms it.

Sam flinches away instinctively, and Gabriel lets his hand fall, lips tight and agate eyes unreadable after a brief flash of pain.

However stunned he is by this turn of events, Sam can’t help but respond to that quickly-masked pain. “Hey.” He grabs Gabriel’s hand and laces their fingers together. Gabriel looks at him suspiciously, but he squeezes the hand and, after a moment, Gabriel squeezes back.

But he brightens suddenly. “You ever been to Alexandria?”


End file.
